Momma's Boy
by Uniquely Amazing
Summary: When Mrs. Phillips comes back in town, how will this treat our, already, psychologically insane protagonist, as he is repeatedly scolded for childish things, he no longer wants to hear about? Will Micheal and Franklin get a kick of Momma Phillips, or will they be part of the reason for her latter disappearance. *Rated for language. *Minor OC's needed.
1. Momma's Home

**So, guess who finally passed GTA V****today**,_(meaning possible spoilers, maybe idk don't read if you haven't finished)_**after two weeks of having it? This girl!  
And I can honestly say that I was so sad to have it end, like I developed some emotional ties to that damn game.  
Anywho. This is just a Little fanfic idea i have toying around in my head. I feel like the GTA storyline would get a kick of having a women, who I picture to be, just like Trevor around, and who knows, maybe even two, if you're catching my drift.  
Anyway, let me know if it's any good, and if any of you play GTA Online for the Playstation 3, be sure to drop your gamertags in the comments, or if you feel more comfortable, in my PM's.  
I'm just starting to play online so it's all a bit new to me, and all of my friends have Xbox so it sucks.  
ANYWAYS ENJOY!**

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Setting: _Somewhere near the edge of Paleto Bay  
_Time: _Approximately one year after the Union Depository Heist._  
Rating: _T for foul language, might change later on.  
_**Please read authors note/background on the bottom, after the story of course.**

* * *

"Do you smell that boys?" he asked rhetorically to both Micheal and Franklin. He placed his dirty hands on his hips and sniffed the air, for no apparent reason. "That, my friends, is the smell of a job well done!" He laughed to himself as he leaned on his truck.

"Sure, dog. If you call us barely making our sorry asses out of there in time, then yes, motherfucker, it was a job well done!" Franklin snapped. He was nearly killed back there, and the bullet that grazed the top of his shoulder was enough to make him want to give up this stuff for good.

"Hey, watch it." Trevor snarled, quickly changing the atmosphere of the situation.

Since their Union Depository heist, Trevor had barely spent any of his money, he had absolutely no idea on what to do with it. Sure, he had bought a few new planes fr his airfield, and invested a couple thousand dollars on his industry, but other than that, the money just sat in a pile, hidden under the floorboards of his room.

He had taken a few anger management classes, which all ended in great calamity, but what can you expect from someone who is a walking,breathing, ticking time-bomb? One thing did pay off though, he learned to control his anger by just a tiny bit. Meaning his explosions came a few seconds later than it used to.

"Calm down boys, no need to fight, we're all friends here." Oh, if Micheal only believed that himself. He was only there because his was coming down to his last hundred thousand dollars, it hadn't even been a year and the De Santa family had already blown eighteen million dollars. Way to go, Los Santos.

"More like partners," Franklin mumbled under his breath as he stuffed his dufflebag in the trunk of his car. Trevor caught his remark, but decided it would be best to let it slide.

"You know, I kind of miss how close those old heists made us." Trevor admitted with complete sincerity.

Micheal scoffed. "Close? You call us trying to kill each other on multiple occasions _close_?"

"Well yeah, you're still here, aren't ya? Close." He confirmed.

"You niggas still as whack as I left ya'll a year a ago, dang."

Trevor laughed maniacally and grabbed Franklin in a headlock. "Well these "niggas" are gonna start hanging out again." He grabbed Micheal as well and continued. "Dinner, my place, tomorrow. You'll regret not coming, if you don't that is." And with that, he laughed once more and dropped the pair on dusty road. He climbed onto his truck without hesitation and drove off. "See you fuckers tomorrow!" He shouted as he drove off.

"Damn. That nigga trifling as hell, dog." Franklin said as he stood himself up and brushed himself off.

"Tell me about it, F. But there's no avoiding him. Sometimes he acts more like a clingy ex-girlfriend than an old friend." Micheal said as he pushed his share into the trunk of his car. "I'll bring my family along, there is less of a chance he'll go batshit crazy with the kids around." He rested his head on the trunk and sighed.

Franklin sighed and opened the door to his car. "Guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow, dog."

"See ya, F." Micheal waved before getting into his car. It was going to be a long drive home, and an even longer fight with Amanda over the Trevor scenario. He slammed his head on the steering wheel a few times before finally deciding to floor it and go home.

Trevor pulled up to the driveway of his house, puzzled by the expensive looking car parked outside of his trailer. He tightened his grip on the wheel as he narrowed his eyebrows at the living room light that was turned on, and the shadows that walked around inside.

Just then, the name that seemed to have all of the answers spewed from his mouth as he slammed his truck door, letting everyone know he had arrived. "ROOONN!" He shouted, taking the wooden steps two at a time, just as his front door swung open, reveling the frightened old man. Trevor grabbed him by the neck and pushed him toward the steps, dangling him over the first step as he gasped for air and clawed at his grip.

"M... mo..."

"Moo? What are you a fucking cow? That's great you fucktard." Just as he lets Ron fall, which broke his second wooden step, a haunting voice called from behind him.

"Now, tell me boy." Trevor tensed up, his frightened eyes darting to Ron, who sat trying to catch his breath. "Is that anyway to treat a guest," her old, wrinkled, red tinted lips took a sip of the scotch in the glass cup as she chuckled. "When your mom is home?"

Trevor was speechless. Last time he had seen her, she was a figment of his imagination, but if Ron had seen her, than that obviously wasn't an illusion. It had taken him a few weeks of therapy, and five different shrinks, to get through his mind that his mom hadn't actually been there.

"Ma! Is that r-really you?" He asked as his hand reached out to touch her face. She quickly slapped his hand away and scowled.

"Haven't seen me in fifteen years and this is the welcome party I get? Should've just stayed in prison." She hissed as she walked back inside. "Oh yeah, by the way, you're sleeping on the couch." She straightened out her shirt and took on last shot of scotch before walking into Trevor's room and, eventually, knocking out.

"Wow, Trevor. If I would've known you were such a momma's boy, I would've called her here years ago." Trevor glared at Ron, and if looks could kill Ron would be done three times over already.

"Speak of this to no one. If I find out that you have told even a single soul about my mom, I will _skin you alive and feed your sorry ass to the Jaguars._" He muttered through clenched teeth. "Do you understand?" Ron gulped loudly, causing Trevor to smile. "Good."

* * *

Background:_Micheal is running short on Union Depository funds and decided to call the crew up for a small heist, landing them with a couple thousand dollars each. Franklin is happy with his new earnings, especially since he has just settled down with a lady(yet to be named, might be accepting an OC for this roll). Trevor has attended multiple therapy and anger management classes in the past year and is somewhat more... "calm" now._

Author's note:

I will be needing two, and only two(for now) OC's for the story, maybe if you submit one and i like it they could be a minor character, idk... maybe. XD  
I'll need A wife for Franklin. and A possible love interest, if not, close friend for Trevor. Anything else can be submitted and will be taken under consideration.


	2. Arms Deal

**Thanks for all the reviews first chapter, I promise to add all of you once I have my wifi, so if any of this comes off as typo=ed let me know cause it was writing on my phonE!  
****Also one of the scenes is from Doctor Who, and if anyone gets it, they earn major cool points!****  
As for the OC's I used two submited for this chapter and the other one will either be put into play next chapter or the one after. **  
**Hopefully you enjoy, :D**

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"Dinner? At Trevor's house? Are you fucking insane Michael Townley?" Amanda shouted once she heard the news. She was obviously upset enough to use his real last name. She finished tying her hair up and glared at her husband. "How could you agree to something so careless?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "It's either that, or we risk him coming over here, berserk, and fuck up the whole house." He took a second to enjoy the night's breeze, from his position at the bedroom window, before pulling out a cigarette. He hadn't smoked in a while, but every time his mind wandered over to his recent heist he couldn't resist. He was getting too old for that shit.

Amanda scoffed before closing her bathrobe over her pregnant belly and stomping down the stairs. Michael sighed, running a hand through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. Yep, a child on the way. He couldn't believe that at age forty-six he was going to have another kid, you can take away eighteen years of his retirement.

He had aged a lot in the past year. The bags under his eyes were almost permanent, etched into his features from all his sleepless nights. He never really slept at night, his paranoia usually kicked in and he would end up staying awake all night in case someone tried to sneak in. It had happened twice already, and both were caught by him.

His fading, yet shiny, brown hair had faded a dull, dark color and some patches of hair appeared white. He had gained a bit of a beer belly from all the countless drinks he had poured into his system, and he can honestly say he didn't like it. He thought retirement would have been a bit more... exciting. Guess he was wrong.

"Hey, dad..." His son's voice called from the doorway. He mentally cursed himself as he put out the cigarette and threw it out the window, letting the last puff of smoke escape his lips. A while back he had made a deal with Jimmy, that every time he caught him smoking, he would owe him a thousand dollars. Needless to say, it is clear where most of the De Santa money is kept.

"Y-yeah, Jim?" He coughed, trying to get the last of the smoke out of the system. No such luck.

"I heard you and mom... well mom, yelling and I wanted to know if we were going to Uncle T's house tomorrow?" His bloodshot eyes hinted something that Michael was in no position to think about, without snapping of course, so he let it go.

"Yeah, at least I am. Why?" Michael asked, suddenly curious in his son's interest.

Jimmy's face grew serious, almost as if his high had gone down the toilet in mere seconds. "No specific reason right now. I know a guy that I haven't talked to in a while and I would like to see again. Nothing shady at all, old man."

Michael rolled his eyes and mumbled an "Mmmhmm," before shooing Jimmy out of the room and grabbing a beer from the, newly installed, mini-fridge. He decided that nothing was better than a cold beer on a long day, and eventually passed out on his bed.

* * *

The next morning rolled by awfully slow for poor Trevor. He had spent the whole night wide awake trying to process the events of his day. By the time five -thirty am came by, Trevor had already knocked out on the couch with a bottle of beer in one hand as it hung off the edge of the couch, not to mention the pile of bottles stacked up on the floor beneath it, and the other stuffed inside the waistline of his dirty jeans.

At some point between pure insanity and wanting to jump off the edge of the earth, Trevor had also managed to, almost successfully, break his knuckles from how hard he had hit his Bidho earlier that morning. Needless to say, the dent on the passenger door was just about as fucked up as his knuckles were.

The moment the clock hit one in the afternoon, an annoying chime echoed throughout the trailer home, causing Trevor to stir slightly and mumble a series of drunken phrases before parting his lips and passing out once more. The chime continued periodically and Mrs. Phillips sat up from son's her semi-comfortable bed.

"Ugh..." She moaned as her tired, wrinkled eyes angrily met the clock. She threw one of the many shirts Trevor had scattered across the room over undergarments and cursed herself for forgetting to bring her clothes, she'd have to go buy some later. Upon trudging into the living room, her face shriveled up in disgust at her son. He was a mess of beer bottles held together by traces of drool.

She opened the door and rubbed her eyes, aiding them to adjust to the dry, desert sun. "Good morning," A six foot tall man greeted Mrs. Phillips as he adjusted himself into the door frame. The small traces of white hair in his abyss of black locks was enough to let Mrs. Phillips know that he was well over thirty.

"There is a strange man in my doorway." She said as calmly as possible as she ran a hand through her messy red hair. She fiddled with the hem of the shirt, that reached right down to just above her knees and giggled.

The man laughed, flashing a handsome smile toward the old woman. "Yes... Yes there is."

"And I'm in my pajamas." Her proximity to the man increased, causing him to shift and try to slowly back away from the awkward tension. He could see were Trevor got it from.

"Yes, yes you are-"

"Anything could happen..." She purred as her finger ran down his chest, crossing his comfort barrier. He gently pushed her finger aside and squeezed past her, not surprised at all at Trevor's shitfaced condition.

"Typical Trevor." He sighed as he climbed onto the counter of the small trailer home. He had to keep his back arched to avoid collision with the roof.

"Treeevooorr," his mom whinnied impenitently, causing the thirty-seven year old man to shoot up in his slumber.

"Fucking A." He hissed, dropping the beer bottle and having it shatter into hundreds of tiny pieces, then bringing a hand to his throbbing head. His vision blurred, and he had to blink a few times to refocus on his surroundings. After the room's spinning came to a halt, his eyes finally took note of the people in his home. "The fuck you want, Johnny?" he hissed as he removed his other hand from his pants and sat up.

Mrs. Phillips crossed her arms over her chest in disappointment. "Trevor Alexander Phillips, what have I told you about cursing in front of other people."

"I'll wait outside, Trevor." Johnny struggled to stifle a laugh as he removed himself from the countertop and walked towards the door. Trevor's glare hardened and he cursed the man for being here while his mom was home.

"Sorry, Ma." His body slumped in an almost tired manor as he attempted to hug his mother. She hissed and pushed him away.

"Don't fucking touch me, Trevor. I need a drink, do you have beer?" Completely shocked by the irony of the situation, he nodded mindlessly and pointed toward the fridge. She pushed past him and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, opened it with her teeth, and chugged half of the bottle down.

He shook his head, to snap out of his trance, as he walked into his room. He would definitely take out his anger on Johnny later. Pushing all his raging thoughts aside, he quickly changed into a plaid shirt and a pair or worn out jeans, grabbed a beer, and headed outside.

"Like I said earlier," Trevor started as he tipped the beer bottle toward his 'friend' and leaned on the wall of the house. "The fuck do you want?" He took a swing of his beer and raised his eyebrows.

Johnny, being one that got used to Trevor's rambunctious behavior fairly quickly, rolled his blue eyes. "You know why I'm here."

"Yes, I fucking do." He retorted, sarcasm soaking his every syllable. "Because I have the fucking ability to read your goddamn mind and know why the fuck you showed up to my house before I was even awake!" His rage suddenly overpowered his body as he flung his beer bottle in Johnny's general direction. Johnny swiftly dodged the bottle and silently sighed, knowing this was going nowhere fast.

Johnny's response overpowered Trevor's heavy breathing. "Look, T. We made a deal last week to sort out the details for our next customer down in Liberty City. If you're not sober enough to work through it right now then I'll come back another time."

Fuck... He had forgotten. He began pacing back and forth as he ran a hand through what one could consider was his hair, all sure signs of his break-down that included self-pity and intrapersonal outbursts. "Fucking shit, Trevor!" He argued with himself as his hand found his face repeatedly, each bow more and more painful. "You're an idiot, how can you not remember your biggest fucking deal yet!?"

As he continued his self conflict, Johnny waited patiently for him to finish. He had listened to this over a hundred times, just something you get used to when you've been in business with Trevor as long as he's had.

A few awkward minutes passed between the two before Trevor actually managed to calm down, and with a deep, shaky breath, he continued. "Okay, what about it?"

"He's going to call you as soon as his inspectors arrive, asking a few questions in the process. Then, if all goes well, you can take them up to LC in a week." Johnny was serious when it came to business, especially the illegal kind. He was careful with every step he took,unlike Trevor, which was probably the reason why he's kept him around all these years. That, and because he's the only person who deals with all his neurotic bullshit without complaining. "But there's one tiny problem..."

Trevor scoffed, tiny problems are things that can easily be dealt with, using hands. "What could it possibly be?"

* * *

"I want in." She demanded as her arms folded neatly across her chest, drawing his attention in for the tiniest second. His bushy eyebrows raised up at the girl in front of him with a hint of amusement.

"You'll have to excuse me, due to my old age my hearing is shit, can you repeat that?" Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows, she knew it was a long-shot, but it was truly worth it, she needed to get out of this shit town, even if it was for a day.

"You heard me, old man. I don't stutter." She tucked a flyaway piece of blonde hair behind her ear and forcefully stood her ground, not ready to give up her fight just left.

"And why the fuck would I let someone like you accompany me?"

The girl behind the glass counter chuckled lowly as she leaned her elbows on the counter and stared up at the lunatic in front of her. "Because, it just so happens, that your guns and dope that you need for this delivery are stored away safely in my shop to a place where only I have the key too." She pulled her key ring from her back pocket and smirked as he snatched the object from her hand.

"You do realize you are messing with someone who can easily snap your neck and have you paralyzed, with their bare hands, sweetheart." His teeth were gritted, his eyes and clenching fists angered, and Johnny watch the moments unfold with a look of amusement painted on his features.

She looked around, pointing at every gun that sat behind her, and chuckled. "You do realize you are standing in front of someone who knows how to operate every gun behind her."

He growled lowly, his as dirty, rough hands cupped her cheeks and his fingers gripped onto her jawline for dear life. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she stared straight into those dark, soulless eyes. She wasn't afraid, no. She had lost all fear for Trevor Phillips when she realized that he was not able to physically hurt women, no matter how hard he tried. She was just shocked on how fast he had gotten his grip on her.

"Drew, sweetie." The word spewed like poison from his mouth as he pulled her face closer to his so that it was only inches away, giving him a chance to finally notice her crooked nose after two years of partnership. "Open the fucking door for me before I-"

His threat was silenced by the steady beat that played as his ringtone. With a roll of the eyes, he let go of Drew's face, noticing his red-finger shaped marks that were left behind on her light skin. "'Hello?"

Drew rubbed her cheek as she observed Trevor's facial expressions as he silently mocked the man on the other side of the phone. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the immaturity, not to mention bipolarity, of the strange man. Johnny smiled at her from across the almost empty ammunition shop, but then continued to scroll through his phone.

"Well!" Trevor said as he rolled up his sleeves and and clapped his hands. "The people should arrive tomorrow morning, after that the deal is as good as ours!" Johnny hissed out a yes, but Drew returned to her previous position, the one that she held at the beginning of their encounter.

"If you help me sell these guns, there might just be an open seat available when I fly to LC. You in?"

"Thanks you soft old fuck." She said, lightly tapping his shoulder with her small, balled up fist. His face shadowed by a sudden wave of seriousness as he brutally pulled his arm away and headed toward the exit. Drew would never quite understand the mindset of that man.

* * *

nicoironfistsaintchapman I really like those ideas,thanks man! I'll probably end up using them(I will add you on PSN as soon as I get wifi)  
Terquoise-Thank you for submitting a character, she will be put into play next chapter, or the one after :D (I will add you on PSN as soon as I get wifi)  
Feel the Steel- 1. I just have to say, thnk you for submitting an OC, I hope she lived up to what you anted her to in this Chapter, if not let me know and I'll tweak a few things,, and 2. I really loved your story Sunsets and Skylines, like I am in love with it! Keep up the good work :D  
ROC95-Thanks for the support, I hope johnny was as you pictured him to be! Let me knoew if you want anything fixed.


	3. Dinner With Ma

**_So my mom bought me a new clock and all I hear as I type is the stupid tick-tock,hence the first six words of the first paragraph. ANYWAY this chapter is kind of, off character and I know this, it was sort of an introduction to one of my newest submitted OCs by turquoise (btw I hope you I did her in character., and Idk its really a filler chapter. Next chapter will be better, and might have a little surprise for all of you. Maybeee ;D. Puerto Rican Promise. Ohh and check out my newest GtA story, called Operation:Get Away. Um other than that, hope you enjoy, and yeah! :D_**

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_Tick tock… Tick tock… Tick tock._ The simple repetition, along with his excessive banging on the counter, was enough to drive Trevor more insane than he actually was. His mother was long gone by the time he was home, leaving him a subtle note that said something about buying clothes, and he didn't believe that one bit.

She had been the cause of his abandonment issues so the nervousness that flowed through his veins was not surprise His eyes scanned the small trailer home and he almost managed a smile. The place was clean, cleaner than it would ever be if he had even bothered to clean it. It was almost as if Mrs. Madrazo had stopped by and cleaned it up herself, but he knew that would never be the case, no matter how hard he wanted it too.

His eyes met with the clock and he sighed, heading toward the fridge and pulling out a beer. Nothing calmed him down more than that, or maybe a hit, but he wouldn't try that in case his mom walked in. Gosh, look at yourself, Trevor, he thought, you sound like a thirteen year old scared of his mom. Grow up you old fuck.

His head abruptly found the counter top and he sighed, not bothering to hiss at his newly formed bruise. He body lay unmoving, and it wasn't until his door creaked open that he realized his mom was home.

"Trevor!" She said, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "I can't believe you invite people over and you don't even have the decency to cook for them, thank God I bought these groceries. Move aside, I'm making pasta." She set her groceries on the counter and headed to his room to get changed. "Go outside and help your friend with my stuff."

Curses flowed from his mouth like the blood in his veins, but it didn't stop him from doing what he was told. He was met with a cool, mid-winter breeze. It rarely ever snowed in L.S, and snow was one of the many things he missed from North Yankton. It just got… cold, nothing special about one of the sunniest places of the world.

"God, you lazy old fuck, help a lady out." A familiar voice called from behind the trunk of his mother's car. "I come here to see you and I end up pack mule for the famous Mrs. Phillips, by the way, fantastic news that she's in town."

Trevor sighed, mentally beating himself up for ending up in a situation like this. Tellie was his fuck buddy, every time he needed her, she was there. But on some level, deep down in his gut, he knew that he had more than just sexual desire for the twenty-four year old. He had his good days with her, and his bad days with her. "Get outta my way, kid." Today was one of his bad days.

Tellie narrowed her eyebrow and clenched her jaw. She came over to hopefully smoke a bit or have a drink, not get treated like shit for no apparent reason. "Not very neighborly of you." She hissed as she grabbed a bag of groceries and pushed past him with her curvy figure. "Especially towards someone who wanted nothing more than a good time."

Trevor rolled his eyes, after a long, nerve wrecking day like today he honestly didn't want anyone over,but the small trace of common courtesy that he had told him not to cancel dinner plans he had made with his "friends." He grabbed the last three bags, which were all from clothing stores, and closed the trunk. From inside his house, he heard his mom and Tellie laughing, probably at some terrible pun the twenty-five year old made. He had to admit, her horrible jokes were one of the things he most liked about her.

"So, how'd you find out about my dinner plans, ma?" He asked as he went up behind his mom and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She shrugged him off and nodded her head toward Tellie, who sat facing the, recently fixed, Television.

"You are a terrible drunk texter, Mr. Phillips." She said, a smug smile on her full lips. She pulled her iFruit out of her pocket and toyed with it. "Hope you don't mind, but I told Drew and Johnny. Drew said she had a boxing match tonight and Johnny said familia is first so it's just us and my two favorite men. A-fucking-mazing!"

Mrs. Phillips shot Tellie a look, that went unnoticed by the young women, and continued her preparation. "Yeah… right. Still doesn't explain why you're in my fu-damn house." His interchanged curse word was noticed, but his mom decided against scolding him, for at least using a better word.

"Simple. I invited myself." She moved herself onto the beat-up sofa and sat with her legs crossed. Trevor shook his head, using every ounce of power in his body to keep from beating the pulp out of the girl in front of him.

"You're lucky my mom's here," he began, as he bent down so his lips where only inches from her ear. "Cause if she wasn't you can guarantee yourself that I would grab the closest thing to me and shove it so far down your throat that-"

"Trevor!"

"Uncle T!"

Trevor stood his normal height as the two twenty year olds hugged him tight. He smiled and hugged the pair back. "Hey guys, long time no see. How's college, Trace?" Tracey begins to ramble on about how she has been getting good grades in the past year, and she hosted on of the biggest parties on campus. Jimmy also began to tell him how he had gotten an internship in the LifeInvader company, a path he had chosen due to his extensive knowledge of all things technology.

"Momma Phillips, how you doing?" Michael greeted, hugging the old women close. He hadn't seen her since he died. She hugged him back, oblivious to everything that had happened in the past fifteen years, happy to see one of the boys she had almost raised. He had always been like a son to her in a way. "Trevor didn't tell me you were home. I would've brought you some flowers or something."

"Oh Mikey, always the charmer." Trevor said as he wrapped his arm around his friend and pulled him close. "She was an unexpected surprise." Michael nodded and his eyes darted toward his kids, who were deep into conversation with Tellie. They had met her a few times before, and he was in no position to stop his kids from becoming better friends with a girl he considered to be his daughter.

"God dammit, Michael. Not only do you drag me out here to the middle of Sandy Shores, but you leave me outside, don't open the fucking door for me, and don't wait for me to come in. Great job, De Santa." Amanda pushed through the door, the doorway missing her pregnant belly by only inches. She glares at her children, who were seated on the couch, and they, along with Tellie, stand up and move to the empty dining table.

If there was one thing Trevor had gotten done before everyone arrived, it was managing to steal a big enough table for the dinner. Yes, steal. Even with the surplus amount of money he has, he still steals small things. Old habits die hard.

Amanda lay down, her feet up on the couch and her vision set straight on Trevor. He knew that she had a sort of… dislike for him, but it made no difference to his everyday life so he could honestly not give a bigger fuck. He just brushed it off.

"Ay, yo, T. Sorry I'm late dog. This nigga kept holding me up, it's all good now though." Franklin called from outside. Trevor walked over, and opened the door.

"If you don't want your night to end with a metaphorical mindfuck then run now." Franklin laughed at Trevors comment and entered the house, nearly getting trampled to the floor by Tellie. She was his best friend, how she had managed to make it into their small group was because of him. He saved her once from a bad deal she had made, and ever since then they had been almost inseparable, like brother and sister, but due to him living up in Vinewood, they rarely saw each other.

"F, my dog! What it do, homie?" Franklin and Trevor both laughed at her attempt of acting hood, and Mrs. Phillips just watched with a confused expression. "Where's Mrs. C?" She asked, a little disappointed in not being able to meet the women that owns his heart.

"She's working, homie. I tried to get her to call in sick, but she said she had an important customer today, so I let her be, dog." Tellie pouted and returned to her seat.

"Well, now that everyone's here, we should get serving, huh ma?" Trevor asked, eyeing the food with hungry eyes. He hadn't had a homecooked meal since Mrs. Madrazo's last visit almost a year ago.

"Trevor Alexander, sit down and wait for the food to be served!" Everyone in the room had to struggle to hold in a laugh as he took a seat in between Tracey and Tellie. Tellie nudged him from under the table and Tracey put a supportive hand on his shoulder and sending him a look that read I know the feeling. He shrugged both of them off and kept quiet until the food was served.

While everyone ate, nothing but the sound of forks on plates echoed throughout the small trailer home. It was awkward, and Trevor was glad when it was over. By ten o'clock, the De Santa's and Franklin had left, and Trevor's mom lay knocked out in his bed. Tellie ran to her turk and pulled her hookah out from the back, watching the smile crawl onto Trevor's face. He grabbed a bag of dope that he had stuffed away in one of his pockets and snatched the item from her hand.

"I fucking needed this." He mumbles after a quick hit. Tellie smiled and followed suit, happy that she had finally gotten what she had come for.


End file.
